Free Her Perfect Man by Jillian Hart Page A

other side of the pool?”
    “Now you’re mocking me.”
    “Not me.” She backstroked to the next rope.
    “Why do I have a feeling of impending doom?”
    “No idea. But if I were you, I would be a tad nervous.”
    “You have super water polo skills you’re not telling me about, don’t you?”
    “Let’s just say I’m even better at volleyball.” She unhooked the last rope and looked across the rippling water to where Chad was treading water in place, watching her with the strangest look. Not of male superiority or of competition or even of doubt. No, he watched her with respect.
    Yep, it was hard not to like the guy. She leaned back and kicked across the pool, taking the end of the rope with her. The buoys attached to it bobbed and dipped in the water. “Friday is volleyball.”
    “I saw that on the schedule.” He kept pace with her although yards of water separated them. He wasn’t kidding; he was a strong swimmer. “You surprise me, Rebecca. I wouldn’t have pegged you for an athletic girl.”
    “What does that mean?”
    “I have no idea.” He chuckled, laughing at himself.
    She liked that about him. That he wasn’t too serious, and yet he wasn’t too superficial, either. He understood about being friends. She was relieved not to have to worry about the whole girlfriend-boyfriend thing. That came with so many pressures and worries. She liked just being herself with him. She hoped he felt the same way.
    They were getting nearer to the wall, where kids were milling around taking sides for the two teams and working out positions under the watchful eye of Marin and the other counselors. Rebecca climbed out and plopped onto the side. She wound up the rope, detached it and carried it to the storage closet where one of the pool staff took it from her.
    Chad was on her heels. “I suppose this is where we part ways.”
    “Yes. We’re enemies for the next forty-five minutes or so.”
    “Remember our deal. What are the chances that you will be cooking my favorite meal tonight?”
    “I’d put it in the zero percentile.” She stepped past him, her feet padding on the wet concrete. How fun was this?
    Completely fun. She felt lighter than air as she padded down the deck toward her team. The little kids were clustering at one side of the shallow end, and the older kids in the deep end, which had been divided in half. The pool staff was tying in the goal baskets, a set for each game. The noise as everyone talked was deafening but wonderful.
    Rebecca swam into the deep end, feeling great because of her policy. If she hadn’t stuck to her word last night, then maybe today would be different. Instead of feeling glad and light, she might well have been worrying about what to do with Chad.
    She high-fived a few of her other team members and treaded water near the center line. She hadn’t realized how draining her previous relationship had been. This friendship thing was very freeing. She enjoyed being a single, independent woman, thank you very much.
    “Captain, it’s good to see you’re in position.” From the deck, Marin gave her a wink. “Do you feel up to taking us to another win?”
    “You know it.” While the competition was more lighthearted than serious, she wanted to do her part to boost team spirit. “I can taste victory.”
    She felt a tingle on the back of her neck. She looked across the pool over the heads of the other players who were all milling around in excitement, ready to take their places to where Chad sat on the wall. He might be talking to some of his twelve-year-olds but his gaze was fastened on her. He gave her a salute and slipped into the water. He stroked toward her, moving with ease. He really was a good swimmer. Not that she was worried about losing, of course, but still, the game had just gotten very interesting.
    She treaded water as he approached, and she felt all bright and shiny like a perfect summer’s day. She really liked that he offered her his hand in a shake—a sign